


They Play with Our Lives

by ShatterinSeconds



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Eren is 20, Levi is 25, M/M, Star Wars AU, ereri, gore in later chapters, non-binary hanji, riren - Freeform, smaller age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterinSeconds/pseuds/ShatterinSeconds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago in a galaxy far far away….</p><p>The boy’s eyes match the glow of Levi’s ignited saber. The floating colors in his orbs swirl into a mix of blue and green. Levi turns an accusatory glare on his foe. “It’s you,” he hisses, putting for effort into his swings, backing the kid up against the wall. “Who are you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Ereri/Riren fic (and first fic on AO3) so of course I choose to do it in the Star Wars Universe. I'm really nervous that they're ooc. 
> 
> Anyways it's really stupid for me to be taking on another multific chapter. We'll see how consistant the updates are.
> 
> Please tell me what you think:)

_ Five Years Ago _

* * *

 

“It’s the damn cooling system again, Erwin.” Levi bangs a wrench against the pipe running across the wall. Steam wafts around him, and he tries not to cough. He cringes as he can feel the grease stains smeared across his face, a product of wiping the back of his equally greasy hand across his forehead. 

His Jedi robe has been discarded on the ground. The brown mass is hidden behind a hiss of steam. Erwin grip crinkles on a piece of durasheet, most likely a list of spare parts  _ The Titan  _ needs to fly again. Levi, as of ten minutes ago, had been enjoying his new Jedi Knight status of not giving a fuck about Erwin and his problems. He had been enjoying his new freedom even when Erwin still persuaded him to come along on his  _ secret  _ mission that had been completed before Levi could even blink.  

Yet, here he is stranded on some desert planet, dirty and in need of a visit to the refersor. But their fucking ship is broken. They need to go buy parts. 

Levi huffs, wiping his face and hands on a clean rag. “I have no fucking idea why you even dragged me along on your mission. Or why I even agreed. Why do I have to come to the filthy market with you now?”

Erwin sighs, rubbing his forehead. He’s probably getting a migraine again like the ones he would get while dealing with Levi. “You ar-were my padawan, Levi. Besides, you can read people.”

Levi hums, remembering a time when he was able to witness the pure shock on Erwin’s face when he surpassed him in every Jedi test at sixteen. Damn the Council, he should have been a Knight ages ago. When Levi’s brain computes the sentence, he frowns. “You mean, I can scare them into giving us the best price.”

Erwin remains silent; his eyes drift around the engine room.

“Because you are too proper to threaten anyone yourself,” Levi continues, “Fucking typical.”

Erwin’s gaze regains focus as Levi sighs, thoroughly done with today. “Fine.”

And the two walk out of the hurting ship, searching for the market. 

* * *

Eren watches them from the crowd as they parade through the streets, not giving the inhabitants a second glance. Eren watches as their robes swish around their boots and weapons hand from their belts. Jedi, their state of dress and choice in weapon is unmistakable from the stories Eren was told as a child. 

The two have an obvious height difference. The younger one, Eren is guessing, is the smaller of the two. His silky black hair is clean and pristine. Though Eren can only view the back of the man, he is sure the man’s hair is long enough that it would hang in his eyes, whatever color they may be. The taller man projects the aura that he is in charge, probably the teacher or master or whatever they’re called. He is similarly dressed to the smaller man; the only difference is the color. The older man has beige and brown colored robes while the smaller man wears mostly black. A status in the jedi order that Eren doesn’t understand. 

The smaller of the two has twin sabers hanging from his utility belt. The man has one too many. But the way the the man's hand hovers precisely over both of his weapons tells Eren that pickpocketing that particular man would not be the smartest decision. Yet, the older man with the slicked back blond hair has one lightsaber prone for the taking. It dangles dangerously from a broken clip. Eren’s fingers itch to take it.

He weaves through the daily crowd, absentmindedly hiding when someone whispers a breath. His heart thuds against his chest as he twists his hands into his shirt, nervous. This will be the steal of a lifetime, Eren muses; a small smile graces his features. He lowers the goggles resting on top of his head to shadow his eyes. His brown hair flops in front of his face, and he angrily brushes it back.   

Eren’s hand trembles as he walks closer to his targets. Something is biting at the emptiness of his mind; it’s blinding and foreign. Eren tries to swallow it away, but the light stays as a jarring force repeatedly slamming in the back of his eyes.  

But he won’t fail and pushes past the pain. 

* * *

The Force tickles Levi’s ear. A sudden wave of warmth cascades over his stiff body. Power courses through him, and his senses tingle in an awakening. Levi reaches out with the Force, trying to gauge whether it comes from his old master, but the lightning strike of power has not affected Erwin in the slightest. Levi frowns as dust pricks his face from the trampling feet of passersby. Light flares in the back of his eyes. His steel blue orbs shift to the side in time to see a grubby hand dart from the opaque crowd, latch onto his master’s lightsaber, rip it from the rusted clip, and disappear without showing his or her face. Levi’s lips twitch in an unpleasant smile. He’ll get to have some fun after all. 

Erwin keeps pace with Levi’s quick-- but short --strides, unknownst to the theft. Levi’s voice is sharp and clean against the dirt covered streets and hovels. “Who the hell was the brat who just stole your saber?”

Erwin’s jaw ticks as his right hand drifts down to his belt, finally noticing the familiar weight missing. _ “Shit,”  _ Erwin mutters. 

But Levi is already turning around; his long robe clings to his legs. “Don't worry, Master,” Levi bites, tapping a hand on top of one of his lightsabers, “I'll find the little shit.”

“Don't harm him, Levi,” Erwin scolds, “He is probably trying to get objects to sell for food. I’ll go ahead to get the supplies.”

The damn streets are too crowded. The market stinks of overripe produce that hasn't been bought in days and has been left out for several nights. The natives at the local cantina spit on the ground as they sit at a table outside, calling for another round of drinks. Levi leans casually against the wall, half hidden by a landspeeder. The men cheer as the woman working for little credits pours another round. One lunk slaps her across the ass. Levi hisses in disgust but soon moves from his spot; none of those people are even smart enough to know what a Jedi looks like. No one on this godforsaken planet seems to even have the guts pick pocket a Jedi. As he walks down the crude street, he side steps a piece of bantha shit. The total planet is a shit hole; the quicker he finds the brat the faster he can take a sonic shower **.**

There is an abandoned alley, caught between the main market and residential area-- if Levi could even call it that. His heart suddenly thuds hard against his chest, and he lets his mind open up a crack. Levi follows the Force, a trail of light leading him to his treasure. The wave is unpleasant now, distasteful. The raw power catches fire inside of him. The street is too dark for his eyes to follow any movement and catch crates in his path before he trips over them. The high walls of surrounding structures block any light from the twin suns. With a hiss, one of his lightsabers cast a green glow over the ominous alley.

There is a figure hunched over; his dusty rags barely resemble clothes, and his hands work frantically, digging through a satchel that probably isn't his. Levi's foot kicks a pebble; it pings against a discarded metal box. The ring echos through the quiet alley, and the boy’s ears perk up, his whole body slowly swiveling to face the intruder.  

The dusty street rat has goggles placed high on top of his head, pushing back his chocolate locks. He couldn't be more than five, maybe three years, his junior, though the caked up dirt and sweat hides the truth. This naive, stupid kid is not frightened and continues to fiddle with Erwin’s saber, as if he was given it to be used as a toy. He’s a stupid, curious child that will accidentally slit his throat if he isn't careful. 

The boy’s eyes match the glow of Levi’s ignited saber. The floating colors in his orbs swirl into a mix of blue and green, like the ocean Levi had the opportunity to see once. If he angles the blade slightly, he sees a hint of gold buried deep within. 

“My master sent me to retrieve what you stole.” Levi unnecessarily points his lightsaber at the one clutched in the kid’s greedy palm. 

“Oh? So you’re his lapdog,” snarks the kid, his voice dry like this sparse planet. 

Levi fumes on the inside while his lips slip into a frown; otherwise, his face is a mask. “Listen, kid, I'm no one’s  _ dog _ .”

The brat has a death wish, Levi thinks as he watches the kid’s lips quirk into a sly smirk. “You’re certainly small enough to be one.”

The kid’s skull bangs against the hard packed sand wall of a building as Levi slams his forearm against his throat. Erwin’s saber falls out of the brat’s hand, clattering on the ground and rolls. The tip of Levi’s green lightsaber is pointed dangerously at the kid’s face. His throat clenches as Levi continues to put pressure on his skin, bruising it. The brat’s eyes are glazed over from the impact but soon clear. 

“Hit a nerve there,” the shitty brat mumbles. 

The kid, with hidden strength, punches Levi in the side, pushing him out of the way. The brat lunges for the Erwin’s discarded saber, gripping it in his tight fingers before Levi has a chance to stomp on his hand. Igniting the lightsaber, the kid adds a hint of blue to the dark alley. “You don't know what you have. Put it down before you hurt yourself,” Levi says calmly, holding his hand out. 

“Says the man who was just choking me a second ago. I know what I hold, Jedi,” the brat spits and then charges. 

The kid’s form is understandably horrendous, and Levi flawlessly blocks his moves every time. Their lightsabers hiss in contact, at every twist and turn, at every block and parry. He isn’t even using his second lightsaber, as it swings from his belt forgotten by his grimace of boredom. Sweat accumulates on the brat’s forehead; it cuts through the grime as it races down his nose. Levi, tired of this tedious ‘fight’, reaches out to the Force and staggers momentarily as the influx of power courses through his thoughts.

The kid simultaneously takes a deep breath, stuttering in his movement as he tries to lower his lightsaber; he looks distracted.

Levi turns an accusatory glare on his foe. “It’s you,” he hisses, putting for effort into his swings, backing the kid up against the wall. “Who are you?”

“I don't know what you’re talking about. But stop messing with my head; it hurts,” the brat grunts, pain exploding in his eyes. 

“I’m not doing anything, you shitty brat. It’s you. You have to control your power; it’s overwhelming.” Levi’s saber crashes in front of the kid’s. The colors flicker across the kid's face as the long hiss fades into a quiet but noticeable humming. 

“Power,” the brat questions, “I don't have any power. I’ve never had any power.”

Levi’s brow furrows, and he steps back from the kid, lowering his lightsaber. “You're strongly connected with the Force; I fucking felt you from the street. Who are your parents?” Levi demands.

“I don't answer questions from a stranger,” the brat responds angrily. 

Levi's grip tightens on his hilt, preparing to raise it again at any sign of new aggression. After a moment, Levi sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Eren.”

“I’m Levi,” he graciously provides, “Well, Eren, why did you steal my master’s saber?”

Eren, defeated, slides down the wall and holds the saber in front of his face; the position divides his face in two, causing Levi to have to stare at one eye or the other. “I heard they get a good price on the black market. Why are you here? We never get Jedi in these parts.”

“Ship malfunction, bunch of bullshit really. The fucker always has to have a melt down on the worst planet” 

Eren barks out a laugh. “It can't get worse than this.”

Levi unconsciously sits beside Eren, shutting off his lightsaber so they only have a blue glow to see by. “I'm going to have to take that back from you.”

“I know,” Eren sighs. 

Levi’s mouth spits out a stupid question. “Did you know you were connected to the Force?”

“No, I don't even know what that is,” Eren laughs again. “Never seen Jedi either. Only heard about them through stories, myths really.”

Levi bites the inside of his cheek and glances away from the blue light. “Do you want to get away from this place?” What the hell is he thinking?

“Fuck yes,” Eren sighs. “But I can't. No credits, no ride.”

“You could,” Levi treads carefully, “come and train with me. Be my apprentice or someone else's.”

“Come with you to be a Jedi,” Eren says, testing the word on his tongue. “And here I thought I would just spend this day stealing from merchants.”

Levi's eyes narrow, his patience quickly flying away. “Is that a yes, shitty brat?” 

“Yes.” 

* * *

Erwin’s reaction was predictable,  _ ‘we, or  _ you, _ have to ask the Council.’  _ Levi had dismissed Erwin’s answer while fixing the cooling system. The swish of Erwin's dirty robes ended the conversation,  and Levi hummed along as the ship shuddered to life. Eren was busy taking a sonic and no more had been said on the subject. 

Now Levi stands in front of the circle of chairs. Erwin sits in the one farthest to his left, while Grand Master Zackly and his right hand man Nile sit in square chairs in front of Levi and Eren. Everyone else is of too little importance for Levi to have learned their names. They all hate him anyways, just as he despises them. 

“So now the problem padawan has his own toy to play with,” Zackly speaks to the whole room. 

Levi’s lips snarl in disgust; Eren doesn’t raise his eyes from the floor. Eren is cleaner now, the grime having washed away his added years. Now he resembles his true age, a boy of fifteen. His desert clothes of mismatched rags had been replaced with the younglings cream colored robes. His unruly chocolate hair is slicked back, enunciating the unique coloring of his eyes. 

Nile’s eyes bore into Levi and begins to open his mouth to protest only to be stopped. Zackly flicks his hand, saying, “So be it,” thus dismissing them. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over a month and I am so sorry. But it took me awhile to actually write this chapter (but hey, it's pretty long). I hope this came out okay, and the characters aren't too ooc. If I messed up on anything, please tell me. 
> 
> Thanks you to those who left Kudos and comments:) It really encouraged me to continue with the second chapter.

Five years have passed, and Eren is still taller than him. Though when they first met Eren was only a couple of inches ahead of Levi, the boy had shot up a good several inches-- possibly a foot  --more. Now Levi has to tilt his head when ever he has to be stern with his apprentice. The color of Eren’s robes have changed over the course of his training as was standard practice-- though every time his Padawan seems to get a new set, they’re ripped in the knees or the sleeves the following day.

But no injuries had been inflicted during training. Everything was Eren’s own fault, every scrape and bruise and small hidden smiles on Levi’s face were all Eren’s doing. There is a smudge of dirt on Eren’s cheek as both Master and Padawan walk towards the hovercraft. It takes all of Levi’s energy to not wipe it off with a _‘tch.’_

Their boots clip in sync; their robes move with the rhythm of their breathing. The ends of the material brush the ground, causing Levi to cringe in disgust as he watches the dirt particles slowly cling to his dark robe. Eren grins with a cheeky smile, slowly pointing over to a food booth in the market, quite out of their way from the ship’s docking bay. Cinnamon swirls through the air, and Levi can taste it on his tongue; the scent envelops both of them, and Levi is forced to hold back a sigh.

“Bring me back one, brat.” And Eren scampers off, yelling a common shout of joy.

But there were days in those many years where Levi had heard Eren’s quiet sobs hidden behind closed doors though he never knew who or what they were for. The Master would stand behind the metal, itching to open his mind to Eren, wanting to console his Padawan though he didn't have the social graces to even know where to begin. Levi never approached the subject when his Padawan came to see him hours later with dried tear tracks staining his cheeks, and Eren never brought it up himself. There had been that one day where some secrets were revealed.

If Levi looks close enough at his Padawan, he can see dark circles surrounding his vibrant green eyes, a byproduct of sleepless nights. Levi knows from quick glances at the mirror that he has a matching set. Yet, he has no clue why Eren seems to be having bouts of insomnia because his  mask of glee seems to be permanently glued on.

Levi can hear the credits clatter as they leave his Padawan’s hand. Levi leans against the side of the building, waiting for his food. Eren turns around, showing Levi his treasure of two steaming cinnamon pastries. He frowns as Eren carelessly darts through the pedestrians, only stopping to say sorry when his shoulder bumps into someone, jostling them forward.

For an instance, Levi closes his eyes, allowing himself to merge with the Force while there are no distractions named Eren. With a flick of his mind, he begins to search for Eren’s energy, trying to understand what is worrying his Padawan. The two are Force bonded, but it hurts every time they make a connection.

* * *

 

_Eren asks a simple question and expects a simple answer. “Why do you fight with two sabers?”_

_“Hmmm?” Levi asks with his eyes closed and hands clasped together._

_The room is silent except for Eren’s heavy breathing. Particles of dust lazily floats through the closed blinds that cause shadowed slits to break up their faces. Eren blinks, waiting impatiently for his Master’s response until he realizes he should repeat the question to revive Levi out of his meditative state._

_“Why do you fight with two sabers?” Eren asks again. He plays with the hem of his beige robe, rolling the soft material in his palm, completely bored with mediating-- trying to mediate --for more than an hour._

_“I heard you the first time, brat. No need to repeat it.” Levi keeps his eyes closed, hiding the steel blue coloring that is always set in a glare._

_“Well?” Eren says, the side of his foot tapping against the seat cushion._

_“Because two crystals spoke to me, because I was always used to handling two daggers in t-- you don't need to hear my life story. And you still have forty nine minutes left in this session.”_

_Since Levi had deliberately left Eren’s interests peaked, he tries to discreetly stick up his middle finger-- he is_ so _done with today --but the way Levi’s lips quirk slightly, Eren knows his anger is radiating off him in waves. Sighing, he clasps his hands together to stop their fidgeting and squeezes his eyes tight. Eren cracks open his mind, allowing the Force to trickle in. It itches the inside of his mind at first, constantly pricking him. It starts to pinch and soon his mind is being bombarded from the person sitting in front of him. Eren can’t shut off the faucet, and he grits his teeth through the pain. He never meant to reach out for Levi’s connection; it comes naturally to him and vice versa. But the pain is as cold as a winter storm he learned about from Levi’s stories. The sensation of frostbite creeps into his mind, and Eren grits his teeth through the pain as his senses open up, accommodating for the new input of power._

_Levi has been speaking aloud by the time Eren’s mind refocuses. “-hy this hurts you so much.”_

_“I’m sorry, Master,” Eren breathes, the pain lessening as his mind slowly learns how to block the connection, “Can you repeat that?”_

_Levi grunts but is not angry. “I don’t understand why it hurts you the way it does.”_

_“It’s not the Force in general,” Eren attempts to explain, the words becoming jumbled in his mouth, “but it’s y-you. Uhh… I mean it only happens when I open my mind to you, like try to connect to your Force connection, I guess,” Eren shrugs._

_Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, a common gesture for when he is around Eren. “It's you too.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“It hurts… me as well. Warmth radiates inside of me, but it starts to burn like I’m on fire but only on the inside.  It’s your thoughts, Eren; you have to learn to control your feelings.”_

_Eren bites his lips, to avoid bursting into an angry speech about how it’s not his fault he can’t control anything; it’s only been a year. “Maybe you have to learn control too,_ Levi,” _he spits out, his anger still bubbling to the surface._

_“Why are you so difficult today?”_

_“Why are you so grumpy? You’re the one who invited me here to train with you; try to remember that.” Eren stands from his cross legged position and walks to the door. Sliding the door open with wave of his hand, his emerald eyes dig into Levi’s hunched form, his head in his hands. “Maybe you should start teaching me, Master, before I destroy both of us.”_

* * *

 

The air whips through their hair, stinging their faces. Eren releases a long defeated sigh that has Levi swiveling his head away from the airway in front of him and towards Eren, his eyes alighting in anger. “What the hell was that?”

“You never take me anywhere exciting, Master. I want to see the ocean, the icy tundras, the abundant forests. And I’m just stuck here on this planet of concrete and too many lights to properly see the constellations.”

“Would you like me to personally drop your ass back on that shithole planet?” Levi flicks his bangs out of his eyes as the wind continues to slap them in his face. “Hmmm, that would actually be a good idea.”

Eren punches Levi in the shoulder, and Levi has just the right amount of reflexes to keep them from veering into an oncoming robohack. The angry honk resonates through the air until it is drowned out by the sounds of the other vehicles flying through the air.

“Sorry,” Eren says sheepishly.

“That’s it; I’m returning you.”

“You can’t do that, Master,” Eren hastily replies, tilting his head back to look into the night and buildings rising high over his head as they whizz past. “You’re five years past the return date.”

“Shit.”

* * *

 

 _“Come on, Master. I’ll beat you this time,” a hyper Eren says. His face still round and his eyes still wide in awe. Still a child of fifteen as he comes bounding into Levi’s quarters without knocking. At least, Levi assumes his apprentice is still the same age; they never discussed birthdays_ _or when they occur. But these mood swings of the brat’s always trick Levi. Eren’s irritableness could ooze out of his thoughts and cover Levi in a similarly grumpy mood. And yet, this energetic child is no stranger either._

_Levi takes a sip of his tea before allowing the cup to clink on the table and puts his holopad beside it. “You’re spirited today. No one shit in your breakfast?”_

_His ocean-like eyes sparkle in amusement. “I’ve been working on this all night. It’s finally complete.” His newly constructed lightsaber is held out like a trophy in front of him. The hilt is black with a streak of silver cutting through the darkness. His finger hovers over the red button, igniting it with a snap-hiss. It’s a metallic blue to Levi’s green._

_“Found your kiber crystal then.”_

_Eren smile brightens as he swings the blade back and forth. His brown hair is dusted in blue light; his tan face is splotched with shadows. “I was hoping for something not blue; honestly, it’s like the most common color. But the small crystal spoke to me.”_

_Levi is proud; he didn’t think the kid had it in him to mediate that long. But his mouth is set in a straight, impassive line. “If I beat you, you have to clean your fifthly quarters.”_

_Eren grunts because he knows the chances of him losing; they are almost certain. But he is too excited to pass up the chance to spar. “It’s a deal.”_

_Eren loses, but he couldn’t be happier._

* * *

 

Eren’s arm is slung over Levi’s shoulder as they walk back to the Temple, the mission complete. Levi doesn’t mind the contact-- which is odd because if Erwin ever tried to place a hand on his shoulder, Levi would judo flip him --; it’s comforting and warm, but as soon as his view catches figures scurrying in and out of the Temple doors, he steps away from Eren and reaches up to ruffle his unruly brown hair as Eren’s lips start to form a pout.

“Do you think Jean passed his tests? I bet he failed!” Eren cackles. “I can’t believe that bastard was able to take the test to become a Knight before me.”

“He almost excelled in every course while you still can’t seem to find your balance,” Levi deadpans, narrowing his eyes as he catches the familiar gait of Erwin as they continue to move forwards.

Levi hears scuff on the ground and suddenly Eren isn’t beside him. He stops to roll his eyes, not even looking back when he says, “Did you just trip?”  

“No,” Eren mutters from the ground, picking himself up and brushing off the dirt.

Levi wants to laugh. “You never did get the hang of a Jedi’s agility.”

“Fuck off, Levi.”

* * *

 

_“You made a friend,” Levi says disapprovingly as his eyes rake over the small frame of this blond headed person. The boy is smaller than Eren, though, like everyone else, Levi is sure this person will gain his growth spurt, adding another person to Levi’s list of who is taller than him. So far everybody is on it._

_Eren rolls his eyes. “You expect me to go to the academy but not to make friends? I have a life outside of time with you, Master.”_

_“What’s your name?” Levi demands, his question directed at the blond boy._

_“Armin, Sir,” the boy says confidently, his posture straight and blue eyes shining in determination._

_Levi’s lips twitch involuntarily. “Go on,” he says reluctantly, gesturing to the artificial courtyard behind him._

_Eren’s face brightens, the darkness from the shadows slides off his face. A big ass grin is all Levi can see. “Thank you!” and he scampers off down the stairs, basking in the lights illuminating the dome._

_Before Armin hurries after him, Levi latches onto his lanky arm dragging him behind the colum. With his steel blue eyes boring into Armin, Levi says, “Make sure he doesn't get into trouble, alright?”_

_“Of course, Master Levi,” Armin answers._

_“Thank you,” Levi whispers after Armin had already disappeared into the fabricated wilderness._

* * *

 

Jean’s laugh pierces through Eren like one of the Jedi’s sabers. Clean and quick, but the pain lasts. Eren, having perfecting his glare by watching his Master, sends his withering gaze to the bystander and is silently pleased when he sees Jean visibly gulp. Levi had been taken away to the council-- his Master had been grumbling about the event all day, even calling Zackly a few choice words he told Eren not to repeat --, and Eren had taken it upon himself to form a friendly sparring session with one of the Jedis’ best apprentices to date, Annie Leonhart.

But of course, the resident asshole Jean had to show up just in time to witness the spectacle of Eren’s face smashing into the training room floor as his ass points towards the ceiling. He rolls over to watch Jean mockingly clap and Annie, with her usual bored expression, flick a lock of blond hair out of her face, unimpressed by his failure. Eren hates the apprentices in his age group, all of them had been training since they were little, and he’s the idiot that started five years too late.

The training room door slides open with a bang. “Oi, Eren,” Levi says , his clipped voice sending all three of the rooms occupants into a forced silence. “Get off your ass and pack your things. We're on another assignment.” Without another word, the Jedi Master leaves.

“You’re going to have such a wonderful time with Master Grumpy,” Jean’s stupid, mocking voice says.

Using the Force, Eren flawlessly flips up, his hands already balled into a fist. “If Levi heard you call him that, your ass would be kicked so far, you’d pass the outer rim. But I think I'm going to do that for him.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Jean sneers while walking closer, his lightsaber already ignited.

“Horseface, I’m going to hu- ow, ow, ow!” Eren yells in pain as Annie comes over, forcefully grabbing his and Jean’s ears.

Annie grunts before speaking, dragging the two boys towards the door. “If you two _idiots_ don't stop right now, Master Levi is going to come back and kick both of your asses, whether you're his Padawan or not.”

They both gulp.

* * *

 

_It’s too quiet and Levi hates it. Eren is silent and it bothers Levi. The mattress they lay on dips from both of their weights. Levi’s fingers tap periodically against the hard back of his holopad; he has not been able to pass the first page of the document ever since Eren started to sigh in five minute increments. The noise grates in Levi’s ear. The brat is supposed to be reading up on techniques, but his green eyes have drifted away from the light glow of the screen._

_“What’s the matter, Eren?” Levi finally asks, his teeth grinding together. He shuts off the holopad to give Eren his undivided attention. He catches the sight of Eren’s pursed lips._

_Eren’s breathing deepens and his eyes flicker from the wall to Levi’s impassive face. “It would have been her birthday today,” he whispers quietly, “I don’t even know if she is still alive.”_

_Levi has tried to be more understanding over the years and refrains from rolling his eyes at Eren’s obscureness. “Who’s this ‘she’?” Levi, who has been Eren’s master for a little more than two years-- Levi isn't quite sure about the time frame; he lost count after day one --, knows next to nothing about his Padawan. His eyebrows furrow as his eyes narrow in a pinching glare._

_“My sister Mikasa.”_

_He stops breathing because right now he realizes that maybe he should have taken the time to learn about his Padawan’s past. “I… I don't know what to say.”_

_Eren hiccups; it sounds like a sob. “I don't expect you to.” His brown hair is spread across the stark white sheets. His beige robes are rumpled from the day in bed. There is substantial space between the two men, but as Levi reaches out with the Force, they seem closer together. But Eren is blocking him-- something he only learned recently --and Levi’s lips twitch, falling into a frown._

_Levi rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “I'm a shitty person. I should have asked you earlier. I didn't even think…”_

_His Padawan's eyes are closed; his lips are slightly parted, and he finally flips onto his side to face Levi. There is no anger laced in Eren’s words when he speaks. “No, Levi, you just thought what I wanted you to think. An orphan with no family. Well the truth is that I have a sister, but we were separated many years ago. I was alone for so long before you showed up.”_

_Levi’s hand slowly moves to clutch Eren as his apprentice continues to cry on his shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore, Eren. You will never be alone again.”_

* * *

 

It comes from the shadows before the Jedi has time to draw his lightsaber. His body, taut with anticipation, is thrown effortlessly against the concrete, snapping his spine in three seconds. Blood runs out of his mouth staining his pale lips and his chin. His eyes are dead; his soul has already become part of the Force.

A pale hand darts out from under the dark robe, flashing a polished dagger. With the knife tip pointed at an angle, the person slashes the dagger across the man’s chest. A squirt of blood splatters against their cheek, giving them red freckles on their otherwise flawless skin. The hooded person coats their right hand in the fallen Jedi’s blood and turns to the wall.

Their finger swipes down across the hard surface. Blood drips from the wall, trickling to the ground in metallic puddles. When they step back, lifting their head out of the shadow of the hood, they smirk at the message they have left for the Jedi.

**_Eren_ **

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done. Let's just say that where this ended was not where it was supposed to end. But I still like how it came out. Hope you all enjoy:)
> 
> Thank so much for all the lovely comments and kudos!

His chubby six year old hands toggle with the gear shift in front of him. The black hardened plastic becomes slimy as Eren’s teeth start to bite down in hopes that it is food. When he lifts his head, a string of saliva is attached to his lip and his mother laughs. It’s beautiful and untouchable like cerulean sky expanding out from the loose strands of her dark hair. When his mother opens her eyes, Eren giggles as she pinches his cheek.  

It’s a memory.

Something shakes the landscape around him and Eren closes his eyes for a second, rocking with the world. He doesn’t cry out when his eyes open to a fire roaring above him, dirt and tiny rocks digging into his palms, the gray tendrils of smoke stinging his eyes.

“Come here kid,” Levi says, stretching an arm out in front of him. He’s not supposed to be here.

Eren’s six year old figure stumbles out from under the wrecked speeder, reaching to grab Levi’s hand. When their fingers brush and a spark passes through Eren, he shifts, becoming taller and stronger, as old as he is in real life. He still clutches onto his Master’s hand as Levi leads him through the thick cloud of smoke. The scrapes and bruises on his skin soon heal and he blinks to discover Levi turned towards him; smoke weaves around their bodies, hooking around their ankles and legs. It clouds and bites at their eyes; it seeps into their skin, turning Levi’s pale skin and Eren’s darker coloring to a dusty ash.

“I don’t think we’ll make it through this time.” Levi’s voice is thick, clogged with the gray clouds. Eren now holds both of his Master’s hands, rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Don’t say that; we will always triumph.”

Levi shakes his head. “No. Everything is going to change,” and the smoke tumbles down around both of them, drowning the images.

The jostle from the ship’s engines causes Eren to tumble from the copilot's chair and onto the control panels blinking up at him. His cheek unfortunately stabs into a sharp button that probably controls some miniscule task. He sighs because only he could injure-- however tiny the injury --himself upon waking up.

“Careful, kid, we wouldn’t want you blowing up the ship.” Levi flicks something near Eren’s left side and the ship settles into a low and happy hum.

“If it wasn't for your crappy flying, I wouldn’t have woken up that way,” Eren grumbles, face still pressed on the controls, as he tries to wash away the images from his dream.

From a sideways glance, he is startled to see both of Levi’s eyes trained on him. “You were snoring; I did it on purpose.”

“Thank you so fucking much. Next time it seems like you’re in a peaceful sleep, I’ll make sure to push you off a cliff.”

“Hmmm,” Levi hums with a shadow of a smirk.

Eren, realizing by now that the control keys have left a nice imprint in his skin, hastily lifts his head up to see the blue swirl of hyperspace. Frowning, he says “Oh, we’re not there yet. How lo-”

“Don’t fucking start.”

* * *

“This isn’t the planet for the mission,” Eren voices once the ship touches the ground and gives its last jostle before the engine quiets.

Levi tries not roll his eyes at Eren’s _perceptiveness._ The planet's vast surface that they can see through the main window is peppered with concrete building, sprawling fields, and many trees; the rock they were supposed to be venturing to consists of a planet-wide wet and nasty jungle. There are two suns high in the purplish blue sky that both shine directly into his eyes. Levi cups his hand to shadow his face.

“We’re making a side trip first,” Levi says to ease his Padawan's worries. “There’s business I have to attend to, and unfortunately for me, I don’t have the opportunity to come back without you.”

Levi climbs out of the pilot's chair, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. It had been a long couple of hours. Eren continues to cautiously stare at him, as if trying to see through Levi’s illusive statement just by searching his features. But instead of commenting, Eren yawns, slumping back into the cushioned seat.   

“What’s with the blaster? Where are your sabers? What’s with the clothes?” Eren incessantly questions as Levi opens the ship’s hatch.

The cool air of the planet’s current season whips Levi in the face, causing him to wrap his dark green cloak tighter around his body and lifts part of it to cover the lower half of his face. He rakes a hand through his hair as he watches the horizon for movement before turning to face his Padawan. Eren’s arms are sternly crossed over his chest; his foot taps repeatedly against the steel floor, and his mouth is positioned in a frown.

Levi bites back a curse. Instead he mumbles, “I knew this would be a bad idea, you’re too curious.”

“It doesn’t help when you give me something to be curious about. What’s with the secrecy? You look like a bounty hunter.” Eren’s words are concise and furious.

Before Eren can continue, Levi balls up a wad of cloth he found tucked away in a storage bin at Eren’s motionless arms. It falls to the floor in a heap of black material pooling at his feet. “Wrap yourself in these to hide your robes and leave your saber.”

Hesitantly Eren bends down, his ocean eyes never leaving Levi’s face. “I trust you, Master. But I want to know-”

“You’ll see them soon. But wear the damn cloak, Eren, they don’t know about me-- us being Jedi.”

A raised eyebrow is all Levi receives as a response, and Eren quickly throws the cloak over his head, covering his Jedi robes, before they depart from the ship. Levi hears the distant clatter as Eren carelessly throws his lightsaber, watching it roll back into the ship as the ramp begins to ascend upwards.

Levi hears their voice before he sees them. “Five years, Levi. It’s been too long,” Hanji bellows a few yards away from the two, their dark brown hair blowing in the sudden gust of wind. Petra stands behind them, a frown on her pale face. Her orange hair had been bobbed, now brushing her chin and the collar of her dark blue tunic. It has indeed been too long since Levi has seen both of them.

But of course he would never admit that fact. “We communicate every month,” he replies tersely, jogging slightly to close the gap, leaving Eren further behind.

Petra hugs him, and Hanji claps him on the shoulders. “I meant face to face,” they say with a bright smile.

“I know what you meant, Shitty Glasses.”

Petra sneaks behind Levi, cocking her head at the late arrival. Eren sheepishly stares back, awkward in this landscape and surrounded by these strangers. He’s dark against the pale sky yawning behind him. “Captain,” she begins to comment, pointing at the blinking boy, “who’s this?”

 _‘Captain?_ ’ Eren mouths at him; Levi promptly ignores it, having no time for long tales and depressing backstories.  

“Petra and Hanji, this is Eren. I decided to get a copilot.” Eren grunts in protest at the lie, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he glares.  

The lenses in Hanji’s glasses glisten in the suns as their eyes light up at the prospect of a new specimen to study. They trot over to where Eren wrings his hands together, his eyes flickering between the new people. Hanji unceremoniously pushes Petra to the side to stand in front of Levi's Padawan. “Hello, I'm Hanji. Pleased to meet you, Eren.” They stick out a hand that Eren gingerly shakes.

“It's nice to meet you too. I wish my Ma-- Levi told me about you before hand.”

“ _Pshaw,_ Levi doesn't even share any information with his _friends_ ,” Hanji’s eyes flicker to Levi who stares at his rough hands, “so no need to be disappointed. I'm just happy he shared you with us. Our man of secrets has come a long way.”

“Man of secrets,” Eren mumbles. “That definitely describes him.”

Petra claps her hands, startling Levi out of his glazed daze. “We should get going. I don't like being out in the open for this long.”

On the inside Levi smiles. He taught her well. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“Why haven’t you told me about them?” Eren whispers as they walk a well worn path. Undergrowth still grabs for their legs, threatening to rip the cloth that clothes them. Petra and Hanji keep pace a couple feet away, oblivious to the conversation at hand.

Levi tries not to sigh. “I don’t tell you everything, and might I add, neither do you.”

“Maybe we should start,” Eren forces out in another whisper but Levi has already walked swiftly ahead, too far away to hear.

* * *

The men of the group were guarding the fort (a lone cabin built in a dense forest where little light is able to shine down)-- or getting drunk; there was usually no difference with the three. The scent of alcohol is laced in the air with the blooming lilacs. It has Levi crinkling his nose at the biting smell and prays one of the grown men isn’t stupid enough to offer a sip to his Padawan. He doesn’t want to carry a drunk Eren over his shoulder, _again_.

Fuck, he should not have brought Eren here. What the hell was he thinking?

The three men-- Oluo on the right, Gunther in the middle, and Eld on the left --leave their post in front of the cabin door and flock around Eren, just as Hanji and Petra did many minutes ago. Their incessant grumbling and rough, sloppy voices pierce Levi’s ears.

“Oi!” Levi yells, his voice rustling the trees, “What are you asshats doing drinking on the job? And stop suffocating Eren.” He’d seen his Padawan pull at the collar of his cloak as if it had been choking him, and Levi drags him out of the circle before any real damage could be down.

“Yes,” Petra says, always the voice of reason, “we need to debrief while you guys continue watching our backs. And I’m taking the bottle.”

All eyes turn to Levi as if finally acknowledging their captain had spoken, and that’s when their sluggish minds from the drinks start to realize that he is not happy. The men’s lips start to pucker in a plea of apologies. But Levi lets their voices blend into the surroundings as he takes in a big gulp of the fresh air, untainted by the fumes of vehicles. His shoulders relax, and he turns swiftly, his dark green cloak trailing behind him.

The emblem of two wings-- one blue and the other white --crossing each other over a green background hangs in the main sitting room. A large oak table and eight or nine chairs are all that furnish the room. They kept that stupid logo after all these years, and it’s probably still embroidered somewhere on their cloaks; Levi rolls his eyes.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Hanji innocently asks as they pour a substantial glass for themselves.

“Fuck yes.” And even if Levi learned a long time ago that he couldn’t get drunk, he doesn’t mind the stinging sensation of the mahogany liquid.

“How ‘bout you, Eren?”

Levi slaps away his Padawan’s hand reaching for the glass. “No. Not after last time.” He narrows his eyes as Eren exaggerates rolling his eyes. “Don’t give me that look. You know what happened.”

“Fine.” Eren sulks back into the wooden chair, his simmering expression feeding into Levi’s grumpy mood.

Unaffected by the exchange, Hanji shrugs and slides the glass over to Petra who tentatively takes it, hoping the men outside don’t see her being a hypocrite. All three of them clink their glasses together in a silent reunion and knock the drinks back in one gulp.

“Have you heard about the Jedi killing?” Hanji questions, flipping the glass over, not a drop left inside.  

“The what?” Eren quickly questions, perking up.

“This is why you called,” Levi sates over Eren.  

“It was in a system not to far from here. Just a jump away. We couldn’t get much information since we’re not supposed to exist. But, Captain, it was Marlowe.”

“You know a Jedi?” Eren asks, confused while he glares at Levi, who doesn’t seem all that surprised about these turn of events.

Petra gives Eren a small apologetic smile. “We do. He would help us get information when our sources went dry. We didn't know him well, but it still hit close to home.”

Eren chews on his bottom lip. “Are you a mercenary gang?” Levi clenches his hands into fists.

Hanji laughs, filling the empty room and the empty silence that followed Eren’s question. “Mercenaries, thieves, bandits, smugglers. But all in the service of helping the poor. We don’t like higher powers too much.”

“Why did you call me all the way out here for a murder? Even if the victim was a Jedi, this shouldn’t be new to you guys.”

Petra shakes her head at Levi’s question. “Normally we wouldn’t flinch, but now Oluo is certain that someone has been following him all week. Even before we found out about the murder. And in all honesty, Captain, I feel it too. Something’s different in the air; its foul.”

Levi’s fingers rest on his chin, tapping back and forth rhythmically. Eren keeps his lips clamped shut, not wanting to explode. Silence descends upon the four; their eyes flickering to each other asking silent questions that no one has an answer to.

“I would never tell you to run, and I think the lot of you are just paranoid. But the decision is yours.”  

Hanji runs their hands over their eyes, pushing their glasses upwards. Their eyes are swollen with redness and lack of sleep. For once, Levi feels guilty for abandoning all of them, though it was not entirely his fault. Eren fidgets in his chair; the material of his cloak shifts, uncovering the Jedi robes though they are still hidden under the table. Eren’s eyes snag onto his. It’s time to go.

“You’re safe here. But if the plans change, you know how to reach me.”

* * *

“Why are they shooting at us?” Now the landscape has changed along with Eren’s mind set. He is no longer driven with the thought of Levi’s mysterious past, of those five people with the wing insignia, of how they all fell into casual conversation with Levi five minutes after reuniting.

Eren wanted to understand and learn about that side of Levi, not the fake mask Eren knows Levi puts on to play the role of Master and to stand with the Jedi. For the first time, Eren has to wonder if the burden of Jedi hood had been forced upon Levi and was not willingly accepted. His Master flowed naturally with his real friends but was out of place in the Temple.

Does he even know who his Master is anymore?

But now Eren’s thoughts have drifted from Levi and onto the red laser beams whizzing past his face. The ones that come from behind him, creating a breeze that flings his dark hair in every direction. The air suffocates him; it’s hot and humid on the jungle-like planet. Sweat drips from his nose and onto his thick Jedi robes that are now riddled with rips and smeared with mud. Vines whack him in the back as soon as he pushes the thick green vegetation aside. Eren pants as his legs become numb to the thought of dodging another wave of laser fire.

Levi is silent, evenly keeping pace with Eren’s longer strides. His black hair sticks to his forehead in clumps, but he does not look visibly fatigued. His lightsaber hilts are clutched in his hands, unignited. Eren’s still swings by his belt, collecting cobwebs.   

“Why are they shooting at us?” Eren tries again.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Levi finally snarks. “Maybe it’s because you broke their fucking golden idol when you were trying to make peace with them.”

“I was only trying to make peace because you wiped your fucking shoe on their fucking golden idol. You really can’t go five seconds with mud on your boots, can you Master?”

Eren receives a sharp glare from his Master, before Levi rolls to the ground, avoiding a blast that would have taken out his head. “If you read the mission holo, you would know that that was a sign of respect in their culture. But you didn’t read it.”

Eren grunts and winches as a blast grazes his shoulder. Levi’s eyes are no softer, but there is dirt in his hair from his trip to the ground. It makes him look less intimidating. “You know I hate reading anything other than gossip or tech manuals. You should have told me, like you usually do.”

Levi bites his lip. “I guess I should have. Maybe it is partly on me. But you’re just lucky, Eren, that the people who are fucking pissed are not the people we have to negotiate with.”

“Yes, we’re all lucky.”

Laser fire is still peppering the air in front of them. The radicals of the religious order yell from behind as Eren and Levi skid to a stop in front of a big ass tree. Eren couldn’t see around it, and there is no other obvious path. A dead end. He can feel the ground pounding with excitement as the battle comes to its final round.

“Give me some of your energy,” Levi says quickly facing the group with the many weapons.

Eren ignites his lightsaber, exposing the blue glow before he complies. Opening his connection is like a tidal wave. He can’t lessen the wave of energy that will come through the opening, and the recipient has to prepare themselves so they don’t drown and crumble under the extra power of the Force. But he and Levi practiced this move even before Eren selected a crystal. So the floodgates open, and just as Eren will merge with Levi’s power, a bit of Levi’s will interweave itself with Eren’s soul. And Eren staggers because he did not prepare himself for the influx of emotion accompanied with the already overpowering energy.

Even with just a sliver of Levi, the anger and frustration and aggravation rolls around inside of him. Calling for pent up urges to fight to the last man standing. It calls up emotions he has long hidden from the Jedi. Eren just never realized Levi had them as well. Or if Eren did, not with this intensity.

Eren stares at Levi, the way his pale hands grip his sabers, the way his eyes darken in the pursuit, the way his mouth quirks-- more of an involuntary twitch --upwards when his prey has been cornered. Though technically the prey has cornered them.

Levi runs, leaping off of the tree and vaults into a spin, knocking down two of their pursuers with a harsh kick to the backs of their heads. With his lightsabers still not giving off that harsh green light, he uses the hilt as he flips, knocking them out, not wanting to further strain relations by killing any members of the people’s race. But only Eren can see the hesitation in the spins and leaps and kicks while Eren also disarms the other attackers. He knows that those moves are not up to full power even with Eren’s Force connection flowing through him.

Many hours later, after a long time negotiating in a different language Eren never had the patience to study at the academy and a long string of apologizes with Eren nodding along with his sincerity, they’re back in space.

Water from the refresher is still beaded in Eren’s mussed hair and he has discarded his ruined robes for a simple pair of sweats and a loose cotton shirt. Levi wears a similar outfit, and Eren can’t help but stare with wide emerald eyes because he’s never seen his Master in anything this informal. And if Eren would let himself be honest, Levi looked good in the simple clothes with his bangs slicked back from the shower and undercut freshly trimmed. He quickly turns his head towards hyperspace.

“What is it, brat?” Levi pads across the steel floor, barefoot. Which surprises Eren greatly, something is definitely wrong.  

“What’s with you today, Master? You’re usually yelling at me more for fucking up.” Levi shoots him a glare. “I mean not that I’m yelling at you,” Eren tries to hastily correct. “But you seem so far away. And the Force surrounding you… It’s jagged. Does it have something to do with Hanji and Pe-”

“Stop.”

“What?” Eren gapes in surprise.

“Just stop, Eren. Leave it alone.” And Levi uncharacteristically hunches in the pilot's chair, no longer paying attention to his Padawan, but the hyperspace clouds in front of him.  

* * *

The words still ring in Levi's ears. _Don't trust your Padawan._ Erwin’s worried eyes from the hologram have imprinted themselves in his mind. “Why?” he had asked Erwin. But the transmission disintegrated to static before anymore could be said. Levi knows it has to do with the dead Jedi. It’s not a coincidence that it is connected to his squad, and for some reason it is now connected to his Padawan but he doesn’t know why. The thoughts play in his mind as he turns in his chair to face his apprentice many hours later.

“Okay,” he says, “spill it. Yell at me. Just get it all out. I know you’re pissed.”

_Don't trust your Padawan._

Eren sighs, running a hand through his tangled bedhead from sleeping in the chair. “Why, _Levi_? Why didn't you tell me about your friends and about your old and probably current line of work? Why does it seem like you don’t trust me?” His green blue eyes are sparkling with anger; his mouth is taut.  

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Oh? For the last five years, your past wasn’t _relevant_? Bullshit.”

“I- I just never thought you would want to be burdened with that.” He tugs on a strand of his hair, watching Eren’s pale lips and not his eyes. “I pulled you away from the planet you called home and threw you into the life of the Jedi. You were training and I didn’t want to burden you with my past and my problems.”

“Friends aren’t problems, Levi. And maybe I deserve it because I never told you anything besides my name and my missing sister. But we’re close together now; we’re connected because of the Force. And that means we're connected in spirit. It means you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Levi scowls and tries to look out at hyperspace but it’s not as distracting as Eren’s swirling irises. “What are you trying to say?”

Eren looks older for once, with power shimmering around him, and not backing down. He stares Levi straight in the eyes. His hands do not tremble, and his voice is even. “I want to get to know the real you. Not as my Master, but as Levi.”

 _Don't trust your Padawan._ No, Erwin, Levi thinks, for once you’re wrong.

“Okay, Eren.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos! They make me so happy and smile everytime I read them.

“These are not the questions you want to ask.” Two fingers wave across Eren’s face, breaking the steady ocean-like gaze.

“Yes, they are,” Eren says, waving his own set of two fingers in front of Levi’s face. “Besides, you  _ promised. _ ”

“I didn’t promise, shitty brat. All I said was, ‘okay.’”

Eren shrugs, the collar of his shirt brushing his neck. “Coming from you, that’s a promise.”

“Fine, what was the question?”

“ _ Questions _ ,” Eren emphasizes, “Okay, first one: where were you born?”

It’s quiet in the ship, with only a low and muffled hum from the engine and the occasional clanking of the pipes when the temperature dips slightly below the set number. They’re so close to Coruscant; Eren estimates another ten minutes. There is still mud under his toenails from his quick shower. He digs the clump out and flicks it away before Levi answers.  

Levi’s face slips into a disgusted frown, watching the particle disappear on the floor. “Not in a medcenter.”

“I meant a planet, Levi.”

Eren studies his profile as Levi turns to face the hyperspace flying behind them. The dim lights of the ship cast sharp shadows upon the bridge of his nose and his downturned lips. “Never knew the name.”

He isn’t lying. But Eren still blinks in confusion.

“Hmm, this wasn’t my second question, but what’s the first planet you remember?”

“Coruscant; I moved there when my-- when I was five.” He turns and once again he is facing Eren, his steel eyes cutting across his vision. “Are you done now?”

He pouts. “One more, please?” he whines, drawing out the e.

“For fuck’s sake, fine.”

Eren wants to ask about his parents or his childhood friends, but he decides on the question that has been plaguing his mind since meeting Levi's squad. “Who forced you to become a Jedi?”

* * *

“Mom, I don’t like those men who come in bossing you around.” The moth eaten sheets are pulled taught, brushing Levi’s chin. His five year old eyes stare back in wonder as his mother continues to comb her long black hair. It melts over her shoulder as she brushes it behind her ear. 

“Oh, baby, you’re not supposed to be here when they come.” Her worried glance causes Levi to squirm in the bed. 

He has seen the way men come at various times, and his mom disappears for no more than an hour. But she always comes back to him, a little more tired and a little more destroyed. He wants to save her, but all he can do is stare at his tiny fists, wrinkling the sheets. A hand brushes his cheeks, and Levi watches as his mother tries to rid away her worries with a tender smile. 

“Go to bed now, sweetheart; tomorrow will be a brighter day.”

Tomorrow is worse than yesterday. Levi’s stomach gurgles from lack of food for two days; his eyes dip with dark bags and heavy lids as no sleep from the night before finally catches up with his small body. His mother comes stumbling in through their crumbling, drafty door; the sounds of hover cars and spacecrafts waft around her before she shuts the door. 

An astute glance, and Levi notices there is blood on her lips; her hair is tangled into knots, large enough to see, and she walks with a limp. 

“Look, Levi,” she quietly mutters kneeling down to meet his already unnaturally short height, “I found some food for us.” In her arms are rolls of bread. He spies a bit of mold on the crust of one; he also spies a completely charred and burnt piece, and on the inside he whimpers at the sight.  

But his stomach still rumbles in want, so Levi grabs a peculiar shaped roll, cupping it in his tiny hands. The crust crumbles as he snaps the bread apart; the crumbs scatter on the floor, but his mother doesn’t scold. She quietly sits on their shared bed, looking at her hands, her portion left untouched. It’s stale, he thinks as he has to chew the bread before swallowing. From the fresh ones he had managed to steal in the past, the white bouncy substance is supposed to melt in his mouth upon contact. 

Levi continues to stare at his mother, wondering where she conjured up enough credits for such a meal, even one a crappy as this. But his five year old mind knows it has something to do with those men with beady eyes and crude mouths, the ones he catches eyeing his mother’s chest when she bends down. 

“Honey,” his mother begins, “what do you want to do when you grow up?”

Levi thinks because whatever he wants he must be able to bring his mother with him. “I wanna see the stars.”

He’s in her lap now, playing with the tangles in her dirty black hair. She smells strange. “You hold on to that dream and you make it a reality.” Her lightly colored eyes suddenly tear up.

“Okay, mommy,” he promises her. 

A few days later, maybe it’s a week later-- but who really cares; he could never keep track of time --Levi wakes up to his mother stone cold and curled beside him. She smells like death, and he quickly backs into a corner, sobbing, dropping his head onto his knees. A man enters next, a good while later-- long enough for his mother’s body to start decomposing --, and Levi feels utterly sick. 

The man in a long trench coat just stares at the body than at him; there is no sadness in his eyes, and Levi has to wonder who this man is. But he then gets called a runt and useless, but still follows the man-- known as Kenny --because what else should he do?

The ship shudders as it lifts off into space. Levi finally sees the stars; this is not how he wanted his dream to come true. He vows to make something of himself, something with the stars, but the ships is soon dragged down to another planet. One made of buildings and concrete and no mother. Just Kenny and a knife and the black market. 

Levi is ten when he sees one of the men who visited his mother-- Kenny had told Levi what his mother was, “A prostitute, Levi. A no good, dirty prostitute. That’s the legacy you come from”; the image of her only became stronger. Anger flares in his steel blue eyes, his hand tightening on the handle of a knife. He is ten and is already drowning in the red current of blood. And a couple of years later, he begins to notice a Jedi walking around the Underground. The one he would soon know as Erwin.

* * *

Eren stares up at the ceiling, his eyes jumping from one metal plate to the next, tracing over the bolts holding them together. He wonders if Levi’s angry refusal to his question is actually an answer of him saying, ‘yes, I was forced into the Order.’ With a purse of his lips, Eren wonders what that means for him, an apprentice of an unwilling Jedi. But he knows he learns from the best and could care less that his training is unconventional and doesn’t follow any of the Padawan rules-- “Fuck the rules,” Levi said after they leave the council, “I’m teaching you  _ my  _ way.” 

He smirks because Levi’s way became long training sessions and equal parts bonding as Eren soon found out Levi is just as lonesome here as Eren was back on that desert planet. They also quickly became even longer venting sessions (mostly with Eren ranting). If anger can lead to the dark side, bottled up rage must be a one way ticket. Because expelling steam about Jean or the other Jedi has always been what Eren is good at, and Levi’s little comments with his shit sense of humor or just murmurs always calms him down. 

“The Council summoned us,” Levi says, standing in the doorway, not bothering to knock. Light from the hall streams around his form, causing Eren to wince as he had been blinking in the darkness of his quarters on Coruscant. 

“Why?”

“Because they want to invite us to their retirement party,” he deadpans, as Eren drags himself off his bed and onto the floor before he stands. “Obviously I don’t know because I don’t think I’m supposed to know.”

Eren rakes a hand through his bedhead. Not having accomplished anything, Levis  _ tisks _ , coming forward and stretching out his own hand to smooth down the brown mess. His spindly fingers glide through Eren’s locks, brushing the pieces that refuse to lay flat.  Their breaths mix at the close proximity. If Eren bent his knees, his chin could rest on top of Levi’s head. He also wants to drag his own fingers through Levi’s silky hair, even though it’s perfect. 

They’re both quiet as they walk through the long hall, passing flickering torches, Masters and their apprentices, and Annie. Eren watches as she saunters past them, her usual bored expression on her face but grim eyes. Levi’s eyes jerk to the side, watching as well. A trickle of the Force leaves him, spreading into the air around them. Annie’s eyes snap up to meet Eren’s as she turns her head. 

They leave each other’s company soon enough, and nausea swirls, twisting Eren’s stomach. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Eren voices before the two of them walk through the doors to the Council.

Every chair is filled with Jedi Eren is familiar with-- Erwin, Nile, and Zackly sitting in front of them --and many Jedi he has only seen in passing. But whether they know Eren personally, they all support the same disapointed, slightly guarded expression. Distrust swims in everyone’s eyes and he takes a step closer to Levi, who is impassive as usual. 

“What did you do, Padawan Eren?”

It’s a questions that breaks through the thick silence and sends Eren’s mind into overdrive. There are many things he has done that the Council may or may not be aware of-- like the time he stole Jean’s lightsaber and threw it down the septic pipe. There is also the incident with the golden statue a day ago, but Levi was able to make peace with the natives.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” He clasps his hands behind his back to keep them from shaking. Levi’s energy washes over him, and soon Eren doesn’t need to stop his trembling hand. They play with the hem of his tunic instead. 

“It would be much simpler if you told us the truth,” Erwin speaks loudly, his voice floating around the chamber. Distracted by the ships flying in the distance, Eren’s gaze snaps back to Levi’s former master. 

“What truth?”

“The truth that you’re a murderer,” Zackly impatiently yells. The other council members flinch, including Eren. 

“You gotta be shitting me!?” Levi exclaims.  A hand is gripping his lightsaber, and now Eren is the one calming him, opening the Force and draping it over him like a blanket.

It’s okay, he mentally whispers. Outloud, “I have no knowledge of what you’re accusing me of. But I assure you, I am no murderer. Who even died? Because all of this is news to me,” he lies flawlessly.  Eren watches Levi’s head dip and brows narrow.

A grainy hologram pops up, the device outstretched in Zackly’s hand. The man’s-- Eren can already tell it’s a Jedi because why else would the Council care? --chest had been slashed open, and Eren can only assume he is lying in a puddle of his own blood, but the hologram is colorless, besides the constant shade of blue. 

“I don’t even know this man.” He begins to protest, but picture moves sharply up, highlighting the words on the wall. **Eren**. Now he is angry. Next to him, Levi draws a breath, apparently unaware of this portion.

“That man was one of our finest. Marlowe, may he find peace with the Force.”

Marlowe, who? Oh, right, Petra’s contact. Anger begins to boil inside of Eren, and he hates how Levi can stay so calm. Screw the dark side.  “If I was the murderer, do you think I’m stupid enough to leave my name as  _ evidence _ ?” he seethes, his teeth grinding together. And maybe, just maybe, he feels the coldness creeping up inside of him as his eyes burn. 

A hand rests of his shoulder, and Levi tightly squeezes. “Calm down, Eren.”

“Even if you weren’t the murderer,” Zackly continues. “This undoubtedly proves that you have some connection with the case, and thus should receive some sort of punishment.”

Their logic sucks, Eren thinks. He opens his mouth to speak but gets cut off with a wave of a hand.

“We decided to put you on probation, and you can't leave the temple, unless you're accompanied by Nile, Erwin, or myself.”

His body stills, and he thinks his heart has stopped beating as well. They’re caging him? “What about with Levi?”

“Definitely not,” Erwin says to quickly. And now Levi is the one holding back a string of curses. “The investigation is not finished. And right now, you two are our only suspects.” 

* * *

The shadows talk together as they look down at a star chart, crinkled around the edges and ripped close to the center. Three figures press their bodies close together; their mutterings are lost to the darkness under their hoods. A pale skinned finger taps on an orb, not too far from their current position marked by a flag.

“I’ve finally found the planet where the older one’s friends live.”

A gruff voice responds with, “Do you want me to go right away.”

“No,” the quieter voice replies; the third figure, taller than the rest, stays silent. “Let them have a couple more nights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm starting to diverge from my original outline, but oh well, it will probably make for a more interesting story. More Levi and Eren backstory on the way too.
> 
> If you ever want to chat, you can find me on my tumblr: shatterinseconds


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos:) It gave me the motivation to write this chapter.
> 
> This was a rushed editing job so sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Little slits of light cut across Levi’s face; the rest of his features are covered by shadows. His gray eyes track dust suspended in the warm beams, until that pathway is interrupted by a large body; the familiar waft of lemon still follows his old master, Levi muses. Erwin’s slicked back hair is in perfect order, his face freshly shaven, and his blue eyes a storm of worry and distrust and disappointment.  

“Why am I locked in this room like a common criminal?” Levi states, folding his legs under him as he rests on the circular seat.

“You didn’t land when you were supposed to, Levi. Where did you go before your mission?”

“That’s it, I’m done.” Levi stands and makes quick strides to the door. But with Erwin a good foot taller than him, he is blocked even if he could open the locked door with the Force. Levi hates that he has to arch his head back to look Erwin directly in the eye. 

“Answer my questions. And then you're off the hook,” his old master simply says. 

“What about my apprentice?”

Erwin shrugs, ushering Levi back to his seat. “Eeh, he will need to be kept under close watch until this is cleared up.”

“Don’t be a shithead, Erwin. You know as well as I do that Eren didn’t murderer a Jedi. Besides, he’s been by my side for five years. He’s never snuck off once.” That Levi knows of, of course. But with their Force connection, he’s sure he would be able to tell when his apprentice is off planet.

“But you have. All those years as my Padawan when you would disappear for weeks on end only to reappear with a temper and the energy to learn more advanced techniques, I never could figure out where you went.”

“I never wanted you to.”

“Yes,” Erwin comments, sarcasm dripping from his words, “that was clearly obvious.”

“It should also be clearly obvious that I’m not going to stay to answer your shitty ass questions.” He’s already pushing past Erwin again, his anger propelling him along and allowing him rench open the door with so much strength flowing through him that hairline fractures appear in the metal. 

“Levi.”

He turns because of the tone of Erwin’s voice; it’s commanding and Levi hates it. His gray eyes glow and his lips pull back, forming a sneer. The Force is covering his entire body like a second protective skin, and maybe, just maybe, he sees Erwin take a small step backwards. 

“Did I fucking stutter? I said no way in hell.”

“Levi,” Erwin repeats calmly.

The foot that is over the threshold suddenly retracts as Levi powerfully strides up to Erwin, backing him against the wall. “No way in fucking hell am I answering one more question coming from your mouth. Now,” Levi says, slightly calmer than before. “Where the fuck are they keeping Eren?”

* * *

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Eren yells to the empty room for the tenth time. The beige walls must be sick of hearing his cries. His throat scratches as his voice cracks. He rubs at the skin of his neck and swallows, but it does nothing to relieve the hoarse ache.  

He pads around the room, and his fingers reach out to trace the walls. Their texture is rough, and he pricks his fingers on every bump; Eren only lifts his fingers to jump over the seam of the door. He has nothing to entertain himself with-- they took away his lightsaber and holopad, those jerks. So he bides his time by talking to himself.  

“I know you all still think I did it, so why do you idiots think I would be  _ moronic  _ enough to write my own name if I was the murderer? I don’t know anything about this case! I never asked for this,” Eren continues. 

“You know,” a voice pipes up from behind Eren, the door opening with a long creak, “It’s not nice to call the Jedi ‘idiots.’”

He smiles when he sees Levi in the doorframe, his eyes angry but his demeanor pleasant. “I learned from the best,” Eren says cheekily.

Quickly walking to meet his master, he notices Levi holds something in his hand. And Eren greedily chugs it down when he realizes it’s water he has been craving for, for the past couple of hours. The water soothes his throat as the cool liquid washes over him, rejuvenating him. 

“I’d figured only you would be screaming until you lost your voice,” Levi plainly replies. “What did they ask you?”

“Nothing.” Eren’s brows furrow. “After the Council meeting, they just locked me in confinement with temple guards stationed outside.” He hastily rubs the back of his neck, watching Levi’s quizitive gaze narrow. “Y-you don’t think I’m a murderer, do you?”

“Eren.” Levi’s eyes snap up to meet his as he steers Eren out of the room and past a few guards who do not indicate their departure. “You can’t even successfully walk up a flight of stairs without tripping. You can’t even get through a training session without complaining. You can’t-”

“Yes, I know I’m a failure.” Emptiness penetrates the air of the hallway around them. Their boots create a rhythmic clatter on the glossed stone floor. Eren traces the decorative pattern, watching it pass under his shoes. 

“No you’re not a failure, brat, but that’s not the point. You’re not capable of committing murder. Besides, you're too kind and sweet. Hell, you want to help every injured woodland creature we come across during our missions. I know we joke about the dark side, and we both know you have issues containing your anger sometimes, but you would never turn. You’re too pure.”

“That’s… That’s… Wow.” Eren’s tongue fails to form words. 

“Huh,” Levi chuckles, “I should’ve done that years ago to stop you from talking.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Levi. Screw you.”

“You wish.”

They fall into silence when Eren doesn’t respond, content with his thoughts. But maybe as the words sink into his brain, cataloging themselves in his memory, a slight blush starts to spread across his tanned skin.  

“Where are we going, Master?” They’re just walking, it seems, with no purpose. 

“Don’t call me master anymore.”

“What?” Eren turns to look Levi; his posture is rigid, his hands clenched into tight fists.

“I’ve never been a good teacher to you; I don’t deserve that title.”

“Of course you do. You’ve taught me everything I know; I would be a thief, probably a dead thief, without you. You’re my master as well as my friend.”

Levi plays with one of the hooks holding onto his lightsabers before he responds. “Then I just want to be your friend.”

“Okay, yeah, I’d like that. May I ask what brought this on?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” Eren says, slightly perturbed but willing to let it go for now. “May I ask where we are going?”

“We’re going to find the killer. But,” Levi suddenly stops at the entrance to another hall, “I have to speak with Erwin for a little bit. Go to the Archives, I’ll catch up.”

Without waiting for an answer, Levi becomes a swirl of brown robes as he jogs down the hallway, leaving Eren blinking stupidly before continuing in the opposite direction. But with a sharp turn of his head he catches the feeling Levi left behind, laced within the Force. It’s like the brush of a soft, gentle kiss over his cheek. A softness Eren would imagine-- and yes, only admitting to himself,  _ wishes _ \--came from Levi’s lips. 

* * *

“Having fun spying on us, Erwin?” Levi asks, his back pressed against the door frame.

The blue glow of a holocam illuminates Erwin’s face, coloring his blond hair and darkening his eyes. The small figure of Eren moves with purpose towards what Levi hopes is the Archive room. Erwin’s fingers twitch and the holo dims but does not shut off, and Levi’s eyes flicker upwards.

“I told you that this was the only way I would allow you to take him out of that room.” Erwin drapes himself in a chair, never taking his eyes off the cam. Always watching. 

Levi shrugs, “I know  _ that _ , but I also know you didn’t mute it.”

“True, and yes, I heard what you two said.”

“There’s another ‘and’ in there somewhere.” Levi’s arms cross his chest and any amusement in his voice from earlier in the conversation has been wiped clean. 

“ _ And _ I think you’re too close to him and this case in general,” Erwin sighs. 

Levi’s tongue clicks against his teeth, annoyed. “He’s my Padawan, of course I’m close to him.”

“You were my Padawan, and we were never that close.” Erwin holds up a hand, abruptly cutting Levi off. “All I’m saying is keep your emotions in check. Now I know you didn’t come here just to make snide comments at me, what do you want?”

“I need information about an apprentice… details I wouldn’t be able to find in the regular files.”

* * *

Eren can’t tell if Levi is late because he was never given the exact time Levi would be finished talking with his old master. So Eren continues to search through the news feed, relaxing at the table he plopped himself down at. The words are mirrored in his eyes as he scrolls past the countless gossip columns-- boring stuff this week, the norm actually: this senator was caught by their maid having sex with a rival senator, thus cheating on their spouse. He’s seen it all before --until he reaches the article he is looking for. 

**_Unknown Jedi Killer at Large_ **

The picture of the body is too fuzzy to make out any distinguishing features but Eren had already committed the picture from the hologram to memory. The Jedi Council at least kept out Eren’s name, a small blessing in this messed up world. 

The sun begins to set by the time Eren has read the article three times over, mouthing the words to help stick them to his memory. He wonders where Levi is, but then realizes he shouldn’t be too worried when in reality they parted ways no more than a half an hour ago.

Hearing the tapping of boots and the swish of long robes, Eren excitedly lifts his head, hoping for Levi, but then lets a frown slip onto his face when sees that the gait is too long and the body too tall. When the unknown figure gets closer, he recognizes the Jedi-- Nanaba, he thinks pulling the name out of nowhere. Her short blond hair is parted perfectly down the middle as she hurries to Eren’s side.

She lets out a puff of air before she talks. “Eren, I’m glad I found you.” She holds out her hand and at first Eren thinks he is supposed to shake it until he sees a small cream piece of paper between her fingers. “This came for you. I never seen anyone write on real paper before, and you’ve never received anything before, so I figured it’s important. Oh, I uh didn’t tell anybody about this either.”

“T-thank you, Nanaba.” Surprisingly, the paper felt warm and smooth as the pads of his fingers crinkle the note when taking it from her.

Eren doesn’t unfold the piece paper until Nanaba is out of sight and he is once again alone. His ocean eyes roam until they snag on small slanted letters; two words and suddenly he’s somewhere else. 

_ I’m alive   _

_ -M _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can’t tell I’m not too fond of the Jedi Council. After watching Clone Wars, I’ve found that they don’t like to give people second chances or allow people to prove their own innocence (in the cases such as Fives and Ashoka). They’re not as “good” as they should be in my opinion.
> 
> Sorry for the mini rant, but anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos:)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! You don't know how much I appreciate them:)

There is no return address and it drives Eren crazy-- of course there wasn’t, because why would Mikasa tell him she’s alive but not where she is residing? The sheets on his mattress are in disarray, wrinkled and brushing the floor, as he flops backwards, bouncing slightly on the mattress. Armin continues to tap away on his holopad; the electronic glow becomes the only source of light in the otherwise black room.

“I don’t know what to say,” Armin starts. He brushes back his blond hair, sighing. “Are you even sure it’s from your sister? I mean there are plenty of people out there with names starting with an M. The Jedi that died, Marlow, he could be sending you a message?”

Eren shakes his head at his best friend’s scepticism. “I’m sure,” he groans, frustrated with everything today. “Marlow’s deader than dead-- besides he didn’t even know me --, and who else would send me a piece of paper saying ‘I’m alive’?”

The paper in question flutters down onto Eren’s face as Armin lets go of it, coming to settle down on the bed next to him. “It may take awhile and I would need a much bigger pad to access the whole holo net and archives, but I can try to track down the manufacturer of the paper. That would be a starting point at least.”

“Yes, please and thank you. Have I ever told how happy I am that we’re friends?”

“I will never tire of you saying it,” Armin laughs. “H-how are things going? I would’ve thought things would have settled down by now, but I practically had to show every identification I had to get up to your quarters.”   

Eren shrugs, snuggling down into the sheets, breathing in the soft cotton. “Things are great,” he mumbles. “No one trusts me, except the people I care about, ie: Levi and you. But things couldn’t be grander.”

“Master Levi told me both of you are trying to find the killer….”

“He wanted you to hack into some secret files, didn’t he? He’s been having me go over files on every apprentice; I think he believes it’s either a Padawan or someone recently promoted to Jedi Knight.”

Eren rolls over to look at Armin and his shimmering blue eyes and a faint smirk. “Ehh, hacking in wasn’t that hard. Master Levi didn’t tell me what he wanted; I didn’t ask, and I just let him have access to the whole system.”

“He shouldn’t endanger you like that,” Eren says.

“Endanger me?” Armin asks. “Please, I’ve been hacking into things my whole life. I believe he was probably in more danger then I was, going behind the Jedi’s backs and all.” Armin coughs, “So who is your prime suspect? Or is it top secret?”

“Mine is Jean.”

Armin glares at him, raising a blonde eyebrow. Eren props himself up on his elbows.

“What? It’s a logical assumption,” Eren argues.

His friend scoffs. “No it’s not, don’t try to kid yourself. You just hate him.”

“Fine, but Levi hasn’t told me his choice, so I have no clue.” _It’s not like I’m aloud to hang around anyone_ , Eren’s mind grumbles, _stupid Jedi council-- Erwin mostly excluded --and their blatant hatred towards him and Levi._

“You should ask him.”

Eren barks out laughing and has to wipe spit off his lip. “That’s a funny joke, Armin. Like he would tell me.” Besides, he hasn't told Levi about the mysterious note. Some secrets are best kept silent.

* * *

“Petra,” Levi starts, looking at her hologram. “I know what I said before, but you have to leave.”

A puzzled frown awaits him as she leans forward and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why?”

In his hand he grips a small black device the size of his palm. When it was working-- that is, before he smashed it to the ground out of anger -- a blinking red light mockingly pulsed up at him. “I found a tracker on my ship,” _and I know it’s not from the Jedi since they’re idiots_ , Levi adds in his head. But he silently chuckles, remembering Eren using the same word a couple of days earlier to describe them.

He absentmindedly begins to polish the tracking device clutched in his palm, tucking his fingers into his black long sleeve shirt and rubbing the material across the surface.

“And it was put on before you came to see us? So what you’re saying is someone is following you and now know where we are?” Petra asks, with a tilt to her brow.

With a clink, the device is placed on the table. “ _Yes_ ,” Levi stresses, carding hand through his hair.

“Why would anybody care about us? For all they know you were stopping to get fueled.”

“In a system too far away from where I was originally supposed to be going.”

“Ah, so we weren’t just a social call. You know, I’ve always wondered what you do the other days of the year when we don’t see you. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me now?”

“I-” Levi bites his lip, refraining. “No, I just want you to leave. I think it’s the same person, or people who killed the Jedi, who had a connection to _you_ . I think she is trying to get to me or someone close to me.” _Like Eren,_ his mind whispers back to him.

“You just said ‘she’, Heichou. Does that mean you know who it is?”

“It’s a thought, an inkling of an idea; nothing to concern you with.”

“Nothing to concern me with? Holy shit, Levi, what is wrong with you? Tell me who it is so we can keep a lookout and be careful.” Petra’s eyes narrow.

“I can’t.”

Irritation and annoyance flares in her eyes as her lips pull back to form a sneer, displeased with his actions. “You can’t, well what a great leader you are!”

Levi, frustrated, pulls on a lock of hair while shutting his eyes and taking a breath. “I know I’ve been less than attentive with you guys, and I know I should be dropping everything I’m doing to be with you, to help defend you. But I can’t. I have responsibilities not just to myself any more. I want to tell you, but I can’t let this person be suspicious that I’m on to her. You usually change locations every few months, so it won’t be a red flag when she finds out.”

Petra sighs, her eyes displaying distrust, but she nods anyways. “I understand, Levi.” She blinks for a moment too long, as if waiting for a confession, and Levi knows he should tell them, tell all of them including Eren, but he can’t. He just needs more time to figure out a plan.   

“Hanji is coming to see you,” she says suddenly, a happier tone leaking into her voice.

His eyes flash in anger. “I fucking told them to never seek me out.” A string of curses continues on in his mind.

“I know, I know, but they wanted to see you. And I for one am happy they are disobeying your orders, we’re all sick of your ‘other life’ bullshit.”

“When is their ship supposed to land?” Levi seethes, his hand gripping the armrest of his seat, his fingernails digging crescent moons into the soft leather.

“Tomorrow at the earliest. They took a public transport.”

Tomorrow, not enough time to rent out an apartment for the day. Not enough time to cover up his line of work. Levi groans, his yells echoing off the walls of his room. Why is everything falling down around him? Everything always blows up in his face, even when he tries his hardest for just one thing to work out properly.

“How’s Eren?” Petra pipes up, noticing the cue to change conversation topics.

“What about him?” Levi hesitantly asks.

She shrugs, “It just seemed like you got along with him very well, something rare in your case.”

Levi narrows his eyes, his brow wrinkling. “And why do you care?”

“Because he’s cute,” and Petra winks.

Widening his eyes, his mouth falls open and struggles to form words, his tongue frantically moving across his teeth. He finally settles on, “Petra…”, setting his voice in a low warning tone.

She holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine, we won’t talk about that either. But we’ve all seen the way both of you look at each other, so don’t expect silence on this subject from Hanji.”

The whole world is against him today, fucking fantastic. Levi’s finger hovers over the small control panel on the desk. “Just get out of there. Contact me when you’ve found a safe place.” And Petra’s hologram snaps off.

* * *

Fury still tumbles inside of her many hours after Levi’s correspondence. But the boys have gone off to fuel and prep the ship, while Petra packs the weapons and clothes and as much food as she can, because none of them know how long their journey will be. Draws are scattered around the room, unnecessary items have been left in their place while everything else is being shoved into the four bags currently resting on Petra’s unmade bed.  

Her heart quickens its tempo at every article of clothing she stuffs in and every small weapon that can wiggle into the extra room. Petra constantly taps her fingers on the blaster strapped to her hip; at every creak, she turns and patrols quickly around the house, looking out every open window and into every shadowed corner.

Petra counts the minutes Oluo, Gunther, Eld have been gone. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes pass, and Petra begins to worry. It has never taken that long to prep the ship, especially one as tiny as theirs. Panic seizes her as she unclips her blaster; though fear is a constant companion, her hands do not tremble as her finger brushes gently across the trigger.

The slight creaking of the door has Petra lightly walking on the balls of her feet, avoiding any wood panels on the floor that shriek when stepped on. The sound of her breathing fills her ears as her amber eyes narrow in the darkness trying to make out the shadows.

A hand pats her gently on the shoulder, and her elbow rams into their nose. “Ack, Petra, fucking hell.”

She hears the unmistakable laughs of Eld and Gunther, and as one of them thankfully turns on the lights, Petra turns to find Oluo holding a hand to his nose. Blood from his nose pours out through the cracks in between his fingers. She feels no guilt.  

“I’m going to kill you all,” she angrily yells, pointing her blaster at the boys. “What the hell took you so long? It’s dark now; we were supposed to leave ten minutes ago.”

“We lost track of time,” Gunther innocently shrugs.

“Lost track of time my ass. You were drinking and gambling like normal. I can smell it on your breath. What point of low cover do you idiots not understand?”

Before anyone can protest, their mouths are open, words and excuses waiting to spill out, the light above them crackles into a thousand sparks, exploding with a loud cry. Petra blinks, her hand tightly gripping her blaster as she raises it, the barrel pointed straight ahead. The oozing blackness swallows them whole; she closes her eyes, relying on her hearing the one sense not useless.

A crack of the floorboard near the door, and Petra’s finger presses hard on the trigger. A red laser beam lights up the dark, hitting against the wall an inch from an unknown girl’s head. The girl’s eyes are a vibrant, icy blue, but they’re lided in a bored expression. Her mouth slightly curls upwards, the only sign of an expression on the expressionless girl. Two metallic red beams ignite from her hands as Petra continues to fire.   

Bit by bit, as now Gunther, Eld, and Oluo join the fight, laser beams sputtering against the walls every second, two more shadows begin to step out into the light of the twin red blades. These figures are more masculine than the first. And similar red beams, that Petra soon recognizes, with a quiet but startled gasp, are lightsabers, hiss to life.

This is what Levi was warning them about; Petra just wished he had the guts to tell them the whole story. Because his decision just condemned them to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think it's easy to guess who the mysterious three are now if you haven't guessed already. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter:D 
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long but the next chapter will probably take the same amount of time, as school starts in less than six days! I'm so not ready to go back.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


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